


Drabbles - Supporting Characters

by lycomingst



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-31
Updated: 2009-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-05 13:46:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lycomingst/pseuds/lycomingst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of unrelated drabbles featuring the supporting characters or imagined characters of BtVS and AtS. Most were written for the "Open on Sunday" LJ community.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drabbles - Supporting Characters

**She**

The rains haven't come.

She wanted to go with this Xander, whose white skin but not his injury set him apart here. Her ancestors told her she should. Her father told her she could.

But she was the strongest in her family. If the rains didn't come, they would have to go somewhere else. She could carry the most, walk the longest, eat the least. She would be needed.

Xander says she decides. When she's ready, they will leave. And go where she wants. To settle her family, or to the others like her.

For now they watch the sky.

 

**Joyce**

Morning was the whirlwind it always was. Buffy and Dawn to be gotten up, some dragging involved. The scraps about shower use. A cascade of slamming doors.

Joyce trying to ride herd on them. No, they couldn't leave the house until they had some orange juice. No, Dawn couldn't eat two bowls of the cereal that was 70% sugar. They weren't buying that one again.

Someday my girls would marry, produce little mirror images of themselves, thought Joyce. They'll fight these battles. And I'll be the good grandmother who serves hot dogs and French fries for breakfast. Circle of life.

 

**Percy**

It had been a weird few days for Percy.

The school thing was going to be cool. Snyder made the little red headed nerd sign up to do his class work. He only had to show up in class to turn it in.

Then she turned up at the Bronze, all leather, like a biker chick. Only hot.  
And she jumped him, and beat him down. Though he knew he'd mostly tripped.

So she was out for doing his stuff. So he started to do the history report on Roosevelt. It turned out there were two of them. Who knew?

 

**Scott**

Scott didn't mind breaking up with Buffy. She wasn't what he looked for in a girl. Something bright, cheerful. Not moody, needing so much attention.

He liked the other guys to see him with a babe. Somebody who took time to make the package look good. Their phone conversations should be about fashion, and not for god's sakes, her feelings.

While he boasted about sex in the locker room, he'd give quick glances at the other guys, as they showered or dressed. He didn't know why he had to do it. Or why he thought so much about it later.

 

**Joyce**

She never asked how I spent the summer she was away. When you're a teen you think only what affects you exists. I was that way once, I guess.

She brings her friends here. They feel welcome and somehow safe.

When you marry, deep in your heart, no matter what you say, you think, "He will protect me". And then he doesn't.

So now I pay the bills, provide the snacks and offer the comforting word. And they don't know that sometimes I could bury my head in my arms and weep with the need to be taken care of.

 

**Riley**

Buffy, her arms filled with grocery bags, managed to turn the knob and open the door.

"Hey, convalescing boy."

"Hey, Slayer"

"I brought you supplies. Things you can stash in your room. Lots of calories to build up your strength."

She spilled the bags' contents over the bed, while Riley watched from the chair.

"There's raisins, and crackers, and look, peanut butter and chocolate bars. To dip one into the other."

"That's great." He smiled at her. Riley mentioned before to Buffy how much he hated peanut butter. He wondered who in her past had a real craving for it.

 

**Doyle**

The first Valentine's after we married, we were dead broke. Harry in school and me 'between engagements'. Some say Valentine's commercial claptrap; I say any excuse for a party.

She loved surprises. I bought 100 balloons, got a bicycle pump from a pal. Wrote with a marker on them, _I love you_, but with a heart. Rubbed some on the wall so they'd stick; most were on the floor.

No money for chocolates. I took a bag of M&amp;Ms and wrapped each one in colored tissue paper. I got a kiss every time she unwrapped one.

Not a bad day.

 

**Devon**

Cordelia broke up with Devon because he never called when she told him to, and embarrassed her in public by momentarily forgetting her name.

He and Harmony hooked up then. He didn't call her either, but she didn't say so much about it. But it didn't last past Valentine's Day.

Of course, he was stoned that day and forgot it.

Next day, at school, he handed her a plastic figure.

"Sorry 'bout, you know. Here."

"What is that?"

"It's a cool dragon. I know you like them."

"Unicorns, stupid!" And that was that.

Devon told Oz that Harmony was flaky.

 

**Percy's Girl**

"Listen, Crystal, you're not going to believe what happened last night. Yeah, so I'm at the party with Percy. You know, he asked me and everything. It's not like we just agreed to meet there or anything. So, I'm sitting there with him and out of nowhere, this red-haired skank comes up and starts flirting with him. And I'm all, 'Back off, bitch'. And he says later it was some brain who used to help him in high school. Geez, that loser better not follow him around."

"Oh yeah, and later, there was a dead guy and the cops came."

 

**This Doesn't Happen to Martha**

I twined the red flowers in the chairs myself. To match her dress. So she'd be echoed throughout the room. Then Miss Looney Tunes has one of her spells. _Rips_ everything up.

And Spike, says, _why don't we get different flowers? _ I'm thinking_ At the last minute? Yes, I'll just nip out to the cemetery, get something plastic and cheerfully pink. Should I hop a garden picket fence or two and pick some nice daisies? Very 'children of the night'! _

Kept quiet. Very violent, those two.

But I'll never do another 'end of the world party' for _them_.

 

**Life**

Buffy was dead and Dawn alone. Willow and Tara moved in, to keep her life normal.

While Dawn was at school, they cleared out Joyce's bedroom. They debated briefly about which vacant room to take, but Joyce's was bigger and Buffy more recently gone.

_It's like rotating shrines,_mused Willow, not sharing the thought with Tara.

When a memento box filled with the daughters' childish drawings spilled open, Willow envied the monks' power, creating a history for the girl who never was.

A large, lacy card fell out, too, inscribed, "On our first Valentine's Day together, All my love, forever, Hal".

 

**London Winter**

Giles swung open the door to Andrew's office, while still reading the papers he had in his other hand. Looking up, he thought he'd gone blind. All he could see was white, blinding light.

"Andrew?" Giles addressed the space where he thought Andrew was. "It's very bright in here." He heard some clicking noises and gradually the room came into focus.

"It's for my SAD, Seasonal Affective Disorder, Giles. The lights make it like a sunny day. Really, I was sighing all the time, because of the gloom."

Giles nodded. Though he'd never admit it, in January, he missed California.

 

**Counting Coup**

In the Rec Room, the soldiers had a board with their names and the number of kills and captures they'd taken part in. Everybody wanted to get to the elusive century mark. They called it, "getting your c-note".

If Riley heard himself getting pompous about "the mission", he'd remind himself how often he checked his standing on the board. He wanted high numbers.

After he meet Buffy, after they had that meeting with Dr. Walsh, and Buffy explained what a Slayer was, Riley grew less interested in the board thing. One day he just stopped writing his numbers down altogether.

 

**It's a Living**

She smelled the human as soon as he entered the bar. She wasn't particularly hungry, but this one looked so tasty. Big but dumb, she hoped.

She moved in to gauge her approach. She done this at least a hundred times. Humans coming to a demon bar wanted something. Sex. Thrills. Whatever. Maybe the Hellmouth made them antsy. too.

So, was this going to be a quick bite and suck to pay the rent, or was she looking at dinner? They'd go out back and see.

Smile. "Hi, I'm LeeAn. What do I call you?"

"Riley."

Yes, he's easy pickings.

 

**Rusty**

He woke up in a hospital bed with everybody telling him he was lucky not to lose his fingers and toes. He remembers sitting in the guards' office drinking coffee and thinking he should do his rounds. Then nothing.

He goes back to the job, but it's not the same. He's always cold. He used to bring a sandwich to eat while reading the paper; now he heats some soup to scalding just so he can wrap his hands around the cup. It's not enough.

He walks the echoing halls more slowly, more cautiously. He doesn't know what's out there.

 

**Tucker**

"Tucker, we have to talk."

"What is it now, Dad?"

"What it is, smart mouth, is the Visa bill"

Tucker shrugged. "Yeah?"

"We had an arrangement. For necessities and emergencies, only"

"That's all I used it for"

"You charged 545 dollars' worth of meat from a butchers' warehouse." Mr. Wells voice rose. "$545.00."

"I was working on something. It was going to be big. It was an experiment".

"In God's name, what?"

Tucker was silent for a minute. "It was a mink ranch. It didn't work out".

"I can't wait to hear the story justifying the glitter ball from "DiscoNeverDies!.com".

 

**Better Than Him**

I was somebody, you know. I just hit a rough patch, now. Too much partyin'. All that cocaine shit. You lose track of things. And a weakness for the sauce. I just need time; I'll get myself together,

Lately, I've been bedding down in this alley. It's good. It's a dead end; there's a steam vent. Last night, I'm just nodding off and I see this guy. He's stalking a rat. A goddamn rat! He catches it and, holy shit, bites it. Like a circus freak, a whad'yamacallit, a geek.

God, I hope I don't get as bad as that.

 

**Lil' Werewolf**

"Hello. Oz? Oz, honey, where are you? Well, aren't you the world traveler! Listen, we're giving Jordy those herbs. It's hell finding some of them. Yeah, they're working good. But he's an active kid; things can away from us. But it worked out great. I made these clothes for him, with velcro on the seams, so he doesn't ruin everything if he changes before we get to him. And this woman who owns a store saw them, said they were just the thing for toddlers. We've got a clothing line now, "Lil' Werewolf", with the cutest logo. So, how's Manchuria?"

 

**Holland**

When I first saw them framed in the doorway, I was struck with how pale and delicate they seemed. Like Dresden shepherdesses. Only with murder in their unbeating hearts.

After all we'd try to do for Darla. Letting her live again, in the sunshine. Since her whorish life left her with no time, we gave her back life eternal. Yet in her eyes I saw no thanks, only hunger.

For a moment there, I thought the "champion" would save us. But he chose to betray his mission. An inconvenient time to come over to the dark side.

Just bad luck.

 

**Andrew**

I think about betrayal alot these days. And I guess the worst thing about it, it goes forwards and backwards. I stabbed Jonathan, so anything that happens in my life from now on, in the future, stabbing Jonathan is part of it. But were we ever friends, if I could do that to him? All those movies we watched, saying things over the dialogue, laughing and laughing. How can that be real, if I killed him?

And Warren betrayed me, so how can I trust anything before it happened?

That's why I try to keep busy, so I don't think.

 

**Joyce**

She'd sell her engagement and wedding rings.

She tried to keep things in perspective. Her living room in shambles, but her daughter lived through the night.

Now the latest putting-to-rights had to be paid for.

Looking at the rings she remembered. The sweet proposal. Her twisting them throughout that first big confrontation with Hank. Her throwing them at him at the last one. Her wanting to flush them down the toilet or fling them over a bridge rail.

Well, now the pledges of a faithless man could just pay for a new window to keep the wind off their daughter.

 

**Jesse**

On his way to the Bronze, he stopped. He stood in the shadows and waited 'til he saw what he wanted. Someone his size, with a little fashion sense.

He was afraid he'd be clumsy and get blood on everything. But he had a knack for it. A quick grab, a deep bite in just the right place. He felt even more contempt for the inept human he had been.

Being so close to the living again stirred up other hungers. Cordelia, or even Xander... Whatever he craved, was his.

With a change of clothes, he was a new man.

 

**Amy**

Amy decided her mother was an idiot. Conjuring up all that power and using it being a high school cheerleader. A person who can pull a body switch should be able to make herself, at least, a _good_ cheerleader. Moron.

If Amy studied her mother's notes, understood the spells, she'd use the power to get somewhere. See more than this backwater town.

Maybe Amy'd been scared of touching magic while living with manic Mom.  
But the bitch didn't know how to handle the things. Amy would. Amy did.

She saw her life getting a whole lot easier from now on.

 

**Might Have Been**

Andrew had been seeing Warren, talking to him, actually. Even though Warren was dead.

Warren looked so real that, at first, Andrew thought it was a mistake, about Willow killing him. But Andrew could wave his arm through where Warren was standing, so he knew he was just a ghost. He kept telling Andrew that he had to go back to Sunnydale. That they could conquer the world.

 

Andrew thought about it, but he liked the Mexican sun. He and Jonathan had plans to live on the beach. And Jonathan bought him a burro.

Andrew told Warren to go away.

 

**J &amp; A**

They're heading back. No trouble at the border. They look innocuous.

Back to Sunnydale. Jonathan feels he needs to complete something; he's never quite sure what Andrew feels.

They stop at Denny's, to stretch their legs and for something Andrew's been talking about for hours.

The egg-salad sandwich comes and Andrew does what Jonathan knew he'd do. Jonathan says, "You know, you can just not eat them," as he watches the crusts being precisely cut off.

Andrew's eyes flick up at him and he says seriously, "It doesn't taste the same."

Jonathan thinks Andrew lives in his own world.

 

**Joyce**

She keeps them in the back of the drawer where her business files are kept, where Buffy never bothers to go.

Sometimes when she's had a bad day…some deal's fallen through, some vital delivery's not made, some horror's invaded and trashed her home…she takes them out. The cigarettes that Rupert had tucked in his shirt sleeve that night. The pack she'd scooped up and put in her purse after he lost them in the fight.

She sits, inhaling their fragrance, remembering the strong arms, her certainty of being wanted.

She remembers one night of being carefree, not so long ago.

 

**The Shop**

Mrs. Finkel who owns the April Fools dress shop on Main has worked very hard to get where she is. Taking what she could screw out of her loser husband in the divorce, what he hadn't already spent on that tramp, she opened the best dress store in Sunnydale.

Here she gets to dance attendance on the spoiled females of rich families.

She gladly hired Cordelia Chase, down on her luck. She talks the language of the clientele.

And Ms. Finkel likes how Cordelia turns red and lowers her eyes when she's yelled at about keeping the stock room neat.

 

**Mid-Day**

She stopped what she doing to look at her hands.

She didn't recognize the red, wrinkled things they had become. And the small scars from burns. Could her hands even feel heat anymore? Were her hands once lovely, in some time she couldn't remember?

She knew who did this to her. She watched them everyday. Devouring her life. They should be stopped. It wasn't right that they took, and complained, and then laughed at her. She was a person, too. She would stop their mouths.

Her boss said, "Louise, lunch isn't going to serve itself to these kids. Hustle yourself."

 

**In Spring**

Things get busy in Iowa in May. Even with one of her daughters taking over the farm, she had to go out there a lot, to help with Mom and Dad. The old man still wanted to put in sixteen hour days during planting season.

They kept asking about Riley. Where was he? When's he coming home?  
'Don't know. Soon, I hope.' is all she could say. Her boy looked so tired last time she saw him. With a man's sadness in his eyes.

She got a card. He was doing good. Liked the people. Don't worry.

But she did.

 

**Family**

Dear Tucker,

How are you?

I'm not going to tell you my address because I don't want you to know.

Anyway, I'm in a sort of twelve-step program to stop being evil. I had a big wake-up call about responsibility after I killed Jonathan. I work with Slayers now, helping them. Pretty funny, huh?

So I wanted to write and apologize if I ever did anything to hurt you.

You should be good, too. It's better. Write to me c/o American Express, Rome if you want to talk about it.

I'm glad you got out of Sunnydale alive.

Love,  
Andrew

 

**Choices**

Oh, Andrew was busy, busy, busy.

But he was ready when Mr. Giles entered the office in the morning. First, he handed his boss a cup of tea, milk-no-sugar. Then he arrayed his selections out and began to discuss them.

"This is "Mocha Dream', I think it's soothing," Andrew indicated the first paint sample. "Then there's "Cocoa" or "Milk Chocolate". Or we can try, "Death by Chocolate", but that's really dark. Any favorites?"

"As I said, I think brown would be nice for my office," Giles responded weakly.

"Oh, don't worry. I have tons more choices. "Choco-delite", "Semi-Sweet", "Belgian", ...

 

**Selling It**

A three day weekend works wonders. Giles arrived at the shop humming.  
But the refrain from "For Your Love" died in his throat as he stepped inside.

"Anya?"

"Welcome back, Giles. I've read a book about marketing. I've relocated all our stock. These are our lost leaders," she gestured. "We advertised them at a low price and we lure in the customers from our prime demographic. Then..."

"ANYA!"

"Yes, Giles?"

"You moved everything."

"Only to maximize our cash flow. We weren't taking full advantage of square footage."

"It looks…good."

"Thank you."

The dear, exasperating girl had a gift for retail.

 

**Anya**

That was done. She warned Andrew and Jonathan. Didn't do any good. Only terrified them.

Her surroundings suddenly focused.

"Hey, a broad. Did the boys send you for my birthday? You're a little skinny for my taste, but what the hell!"

Anya was annoyed. "This isn't right. Who are you? It's obviously a jail cell but where?"

The fat man said, "Ha, dumb like I like'em. The ferry ride over didn't tell you, dollbaby? Alcatraz. I'm Capone. Big Al."

Anya's shuddered. Her teleporting was so rusty. Use it or lose it!

It took two more tries 'til she was home.

 

**Sam's Dad**

We had a gold star in the window. I took it out on V-J day. The war was over, no sense letting it get all tattered.

He was lost at sea, a real hero. The ones with him weren't allowed to say more, 'cause of government secrets.

I worked at the plant 'til retirement. Now I'm a nightwatchman.

Goddamnest thing. Riding the bus to work, sometimes I think I see him, on the street. Sam, and he hasn't changed at all. But I guess it's just boys who look like him.

Peg says we be together in heaven. Maybe so.

 

**Ethan**

When Ethan got sent down from college, his father despaired of him.

"That's what you get with hanging about with riffraff, like that Giles hoodlum."

Ethan was indignant. "Ripper is far from riffraff. Nor is he the reason I left. Besides," he added to torment his father, "he has beautiful eyes."

Harrumphing, "And the law career? We made plans."

"You made plans"

"Of course, I made plans, I'm paying for it."

The harangue lasted for days. Ethan tried putting a silence spell on his father but failed.

Late one night, he emptied his father's wallet and departed, leaving no note.

 

**Footsteps**

"No, Andrew."

"Please Mr. Giles. It'll be fun."

"It'll be ridiculous."

"Dawn wants to. Don't you, Dawn?"

"Sure. Come on, Giles, don't be a party pooper."

He made a face. "Andrew, I didn't think this was your thing."

"But it's a classic."

"I don't even like them."

Andrew pressed. "Willow's in. She doesn't think it's undignified."

"Heck, no. Giles, just indulge us. We're Americans."

"What about Buffy?"

Andrew handed her the camera. "She'll take the picture. I wish there was a sign that said "Abbey Road". Ok, first me, then Dawn, Giles, Willow. I wish I had a white suit."

 

**Addiction**

She searched all over the kitchen. In all the cabinets, behind the packages on the shelves. She'd kill her roommate. Not a speck of coffee in the house.

That meant instead of lounging around reading, she was going have to dress and schlep out to the Espresso Pump. She needed that caffeine.

She showered, dressed, grabbed her favorite book and walked to the café.

He was there. Seeing him, she wanted to cry. Or faint. He talked right to her. Ohmygod.

She stared at the inscription all the way home. "To Karen" with a K.

She never did get coffee.

 

**Bundlers**

We work on contract. We go in to empty out apartments. For the city, it usually means somebody died there or in the charity wards. For building owners, somebody probably skipped out, owing rent.

This guy here owes three months. We pack up everything. Eventually it all gets sold.

Looks like this guy was a lawyer. Wolfram &amp; Hart name on everything. There's lots of old books. Totally pathetic cds. And dozens and dozens of comic books. Superheroes. Archvillians. Death Rays. That manga stuff.  
Big-eyed boys.

So Mr. Knox, if you want your stuff returned, you gotta pay your back rent.

 

**Paperwork**

Principal Snyder was getting a headache, the one that always started after he heard the words "make up something" and the phone slammed down in his ear.

Sometimes he envied Flutie, eaten by hyenas, er, a pack of stray dogs. At least he no longer had to explain snakes in the lunchroom and a thousand dead wasps. Sighing, Snyder opened the folder listing excuses he'd already used. He'd need something new to sell this one.

Finally, he thought of an angle. "It was an ill-conceived prank by hoodlums in the Zoology Club. All miscreants will be caught and severely punished."

 

**Cocktail**

First, there was a trip to a late night store for ingredients. He had to think hard what was needed to make up a batch. There was cranberry juice, and grapefruit juice, and that had to be fresh, and of course, vodka.

It'd been so long since Los Angeles, since he'd had a Seabreeze. What exact proportions did he like? He'd forgotten.

Well, it didn't have to perfect. He just thought he had a yen for one.

He was wrong. It was delicious but he threw it and the juices down the drain. It tasted like Los Angeles.

He kept the vodka.

 

**Ethan**

Ethan had a dim view of vampires. He found them unpredictable, and, really, he did see the irony in that. But there was a willy-nilliness and rapacity about their appetites that he found off putting.

That exotic little Sunday he met in Sunnydale, for example. (As long as he was in town he thought he'd take in the college's swim meet finals on campus).

He stumbled on her little nest, discouraged any biting with a few hocus-pocus tricks and they had a lovely chat on this and that.

He heard she took on a Slayer and lost. Greedy, just greedy.

 

**In the Jungle**

They hauled him into the village to die. No doctor, but a visiting priest. He watched the man kissed his stole, put it on, and raise his hand in benediction. Riley didn't object, but he thought of his deacon grandfather pursing his lips at Popish nonsense.

There were no flicking candles in the dark corners on the Sunday mornings where his family worshipped. Everything was bright and plain. Maybe delirious, he imagined himself in their austere church giving a sermon on the mysteries he encountered in his life.

Riley died, smiling at the thought of how far he had come.

 

**Just Another Day**

That morning the custodian caught up with Snyder in the hallway. "Better come see this."

"Oh, what is it now? Did these chimps destroy something again? If I had my way, they'd all be medicated."

The classroom was a mess. Broken glass. Papers everywhere. Snyder was livid about the computer. "Do you know how much these things cost?"

The custodian shrugged. To him, Snyder talked just to hear himself.

"And this Miss Calendar hasn't even shown up today or bothered to call, neither has that stuck-up librarian. They have something to do with this. They better have a good story."

 

**Lilah**

In Hell, she stands in her high heels at the copier machine. She feeds the contracts in; there is no cover on the glass plate; she's not permitted to close her eyes. In the blinding glare, her mind sees the results wrought by each legal document.

She "sees" the lives taken, the families broken. But she knew that. Now she feels the pain of each person her papers touched. Despair, anger, desperation. Each drop of agony she inflicted comes back to her. Then she must hand collate.

When her copier shift finishes, she sits down for a thousand PowerPoint presentations.

 

**Gavin**

Trust is such a tricky thing at Wolfram &amp; Hart. It's a matter of getting it and never giving it. Staying viable means having a power base of people and/or creatures so scared of you they'd never dare betray you. For yourself, they're expendable.

I was just lucky all those slots opened up in upper management. It seemed smart to try to learn from the only one to walk out of that wine cellar. I mean the only one still here at W&amp;H.

She doesn't trust me; she wouldn't be where she is if she did foolish thing like that.

 

**Oz**

Trust was not enough: love was not enough. When the wolf in him heard the call, he answered. He betrayed his cinnamon-eyed girl. She looked at him, her heart breaking, and he could say nothing. Not even that it wouldn't happen again. So he went away.

When he came back, he wanted what he had before. Her devotion, her acceptance. To keep this time. But life does not wait for us.

Her love and trust was for another. The wolf inside his girl had awoken and called to her. She would go where it lead, as he knew she must.

 

**Nancy**

That did it. She was out of this town.

That was the scariest night she'd ever had, like living inside a horror movie. Stalker ex-boyfriends aren't enough: she ends up running for her life and getting involved in some stranger's life with his psycho ex-girlfriend. And what was with the blondie twins, punching each other out in the bar. Freak town.

No more thinking about it.

As she opened the door to her apartment, she saw Rocky's favorite toy on the floor. The wiffle ball she'd roll, and he'd pounce on and give a good shake before bringing it back.

 

**Dennis**

Sometimes he'd hide one of her shoes, just for fun.

"Not funny, Dennis," she'd say, as she hopped around on one foot.

Or as she was singing along with the radio, he'd change it to an all news station. She couldn't keep on key to save her life.

"I suppose you sounded like Frank Sinatra in your day" she'd snap. Then she'd pout and not talk to him for hours.

The apartment was empty for a long time after she left, then an account executive moved in. Things are so dull now, Dennis is thinking of "moving toward the light".

 

**The Watcher**

He was the eyes of the city. Down the midnight alleys he would make his way, watching and knowing whatever he saw would be useful to him. To stay alive he needed to know more than anyone else.

Others lived their lives, going about their business and watching what they did was his business. Hearing whispers in dark corners, seeing those who shouldn't been seen together, he gathered it all and made his way to his appointment.

As he entered the nightclub, he saw his target.

"What'd you got for me, Merle. It better be good," a frowning Angel said.

 

**Joyce**

Joyce never had to do this before. She hadn't known about Angel until it was all over. Then it was on again, but he turned out to be a vampire. So not only did she have to adjust to the disturbing Slayer thing, but she knew her little girl's relationship wouldn't last.

She wanted to encourage Buffy's "normal" life, college and the next boyfriend. She should show Riley that he was welcome. Now Joyce had a different problem. Whatever do you buy for your daughter's boyfriend's birthday? A warm gesture, but not smothering. Showing an interest but not inquisitive. Socks?

 

**Larry**

"You've finished ironing your graduation gown?"

"Just about, Mom."

"You'll look so handsome. I can't wait to see you on stage to get your diploma."

"Listen, Mom, there might be some …trouble. You know Sunnydale. You and Daddy sit in the back row and leave if anything happens, ok?"

"Trouble?"

"Just promise me. We'll meet up back home and I'll open my graduation gifts."

"Remember to act surprised when you open Daddy's. It's not his fault if I'm bad at keeping secrets."

Larry grabbed his mother and waltzed her around the room. "I'm going to Hawaii, Hawaii, Hawaii." he sang.

 

**Date**

"No way!"

"What'm I gonna do? I got the perfect dress. I had it picked out for months. I want to go. It's the last dance of high school"

"But...your boyfriend?"

"Kev won't come home from college for it. Selfish prick. 'Oh, finals, finals, finals', he's all whiney. But when I said I'd ask somebody on the football team to take me, he's all 'no way'. Prick. It's not worth the drama."

"But, you can't be serious. Jonathan? For the prom? He's weird, and short. And didn't try to kill somebody?"

"So? He promised to rent a limo. Wanna ride?"

 

**Home Office**

Travers made it into the office his first day back in the UK. He asked Roger Wyndam-Price to step in.

"I heard things didn't go well."

"A near disaster. We lost two good men. And a Watcher seems to have gone native."

"Can't have been all that good if they let the thing get away."

Travers grimaced, "Yes, we'll have to round up another monster, too. On my to-do list. And I'm thinking of sending young Wesley to California, if you concur."

Roger looked dubious. "Well, if you like. Doesn't look as though he could make the situation any worse."

 

**On the Road**

The Secret Military Location trip was taking hours. Even Riley was bored. More for something to say than anything else, he asked, "So, you and Mr. Giles go way back?"

Ethan, who'd been uncharacteristically quiet, asked, "Is this the beginning of the interrogation? Can I shop dear Rupert in exchange for leniency?"

Riley turned away, "Never mind. Forget I said anything."

"Don't pout, dear boy. Yes, you might say I think of Rupert as my sin eater. He deals in good works and redemption whilst I gad about." Ethan studied his handcuffs. "Perhaps I'll be tasting my own sins, now."

 

**Hostess**

She slipped appetizers into the oven, setting the timer. Holland didn't want maids serving these functions. He said it set the wrong tone. The message was: his personal appreciation of staff. But he always fibbed about how many people he invited. That kept her popping into the kitchen to get more nibbles.

These evenings were a trial. She hated wine and being social was heavy going. The things these people said were so odd, even for lawyers.

The doorbell pulled her from the kitchen. The security camera showed two women waiting. She assumed her hostess smile and opened the door.

 

**Kate's Dad**

Every day it was his job to deal with what human scum could think up to do to each other. When he had a day off he'd like to just sit and watch a game on tv, any game would do. But instead, he had to do things, fix things around the house. A faucet leaks, the grass needs mowing, the washing machine floods. And make a show of eating a dinner his daughter messed up the kitchen making.

If the wife was going to leave anyway, she should have taken the kid with her. Life would have been simpler.

 

**Absence**

Roger Wyndam-Pryce was going over some reports with a colleague. During a tea break, while they stood at the window, looking at the street below, the other man said, "So, young Wesley's off to America. Hard to be without him, eh?"

Roger was silent until he realized the man meant it as a real question, not a pleasantry. "Oh, well, his mother misses him, of course."

"Birds flying out of the nest. Always difficult. I'm sure he'll do well, though."

Roger took a sip of tea. "Yes, possibly. Possibly. We can hope against hope."

They went back to their paperwork.

 

**The Master**

Afraid? Of whom am I afraid?

Not the Slayer. This "empowered" human, this savior to humanity. These girls, one after another, whose life spans have been nothing compared to mine. They might as well have been fruit flies.

I have the boy now, the one who will look with big sad eyes at the Slayer. Oh, she won't be able to resist him. He'll bring out all her protective, mushy, feelings. And he'll lead her straight back to me.

I kill her; I go free. I see the night sky again. It's ordained.

I have nothing to fear, she does.

 

**Doyle**

The light in the kitchen was very low, like it always was.

"Married, huh?"

"Yeah, trust me to find the one girl who'd appreciate my 'demon heritage' and then blow it."

"I hear you." Angel pushed the half-full bottle over and Doyle filled his nearly empty glass and took a mouthful.

"I could have been dandling quarter-demon kiddies on my knee and helping write symposium papers. Instead, I'm Tonto to a grumpy vampire on a mission. No offense."

After a minute, "Grumpy?"

"I thought 'brooding' was done to death."

Angel poured more into both glasses and said, "I hear you."

 

**Anya**

Anya sat in a Starbucks in Santa Barbara and wondered if Xander were dead.

Hearing about the Ascension, she'd run fast out of Sunnydale, but not far. She really didn't have the clothes to go anyplace chilly.

The only good thing about being trapped in high school had been Xander. He'd looked so debonair at the prom. She didn't like to think of him mangled in a fruitless fight against gigantic unhybridized demon.

But at least, there'd be no more classes or homework.

She was sorry to miss Graduation though, after all that work she put in to pass math.

 

**Freedom**

Ethan and a guard came through the door. Ethan's handcuffs were taken off and he rubbed his wrists. The guard left after Giles signed his clipboard.

Ethan said, "Ripper, you came. I'm moved. Are you going to whisk me away to a coming out party?"

"I'm here to put you on a plane, for deportation."

"Surely, one of the beefy uniforms could do that?"

"I wanted to make sure it was done. And I want you to stay away. Surely you owe me that. For old times' sake."

Ethan smiled slightly, "Old times' sake is why I can't stay away."

 

**Riley**

Raised in Iowa, Riley had a picture in his mind of what the ocean would look like. Maybe the idea was planted by a grade school geography book picture of a tropical beach, but he thought it'd be clear blue. Sapphire.

He found it could be many things. Blue or green or gray. Depending on its mood, on what was roiling under its surface. And it was deeper and stronger than he could have imagined.

That was Riley's first surprise when he came to boot camp. So many things in his future wouldn't be as he expected. If he only knew.

 

**Harmony**

A vampire (né boy),who had a crush since sixth grade, sired Harmony. He took time out from an apocalypse to do it.

Awaking in a new life, she found some similarities to her old one. Though she didn't show up after graduation, her family still went on their lengthy Greek cruise. And she was so planning to bite her sister.

Luckily the help was live-in, and tasty, and Harmony crossed the threshold.

Day-sleeping made her toss for hours until she finally settled. Then only extra loud sports talk on the radio alarm could guarantee she wouldn't snooze long past sunset.

 

**Holtz**

I have been given opportunities that others have only dreamed of. I have had many lifetimes. What would our Isaac Newton , or any member of the Royal Society given to see what I've seen. I've survived other dimensions where no other humans existed. I've seen the future of mankind, with its marvelous machines and endless daylight.

Even God has been gracious to me, giving me a son to replace my lost one.  
Someone to guide and love, so I will live on in this bright future.

But I care for none of it. I only want Angel to suffer.

 

**The Sun Never Shines**

In Yorkshire, a lad with little schooling and a strong back earns his brass in the mines. A cage drops him slowly into what could pass for hell.

He creeps along, his clothes caked with sweat and dirt. He watches for loose ceilings; his canary warns him of bad air.

But suppose, in an abandoned tunnel, he meets a man dressed as a gentleman, with skin so pale it shines in the candlelight. A man whose teeth grow and whose face becomes that of the devil himself. The canary would sing on, no warning against the trouble he has now.

 

**Larry**

Every February Larry remembers this.

He's eight. He's written his Valentine's Day cards, spending hours matching card and receiver, put an X and an O on each and signed his name. Written, not printed, and he's proud of that.

His brother comes in. He's 14 and cool--tall, strong and he teaches Larry words their mom won't let them say.

"Hey, midget, what's up?"

Jason looks at the envelopes. He frowns.

"What the fuck's this? You don't give Valentine cards to boys!"

He made Larry tear up every one with a boy's name on it. Then they play some basketball.

 

**Lilah Waits**

She's in a tiny ante-room. She knows she's in Hell. She's been here a long time. She decides the room needs a couple duplicate copies of a 1950's magazine, something like "Fly Fishing Today", to underscore, intensify the tedium,. Their technique needs sharpening. She could help them hone it. Half-smile at herself, the little go-getter, the over-achiever.

She's waiting for someone, but isn't sure who. Finally, the door opens. She sees recognition in his eyes.

Then she understands. Really, their technique is fine. Nothing like seeing on the face of someone you love that you are their special, private Hell.

 

**Holiday for One**

Mr. Snyder has a holiday weekend. Four days off.

Still, there are things a principal must do. He fusses with himself about it. _You'd think a Mayor who doesn't let the death rate of this town become newsworthy, could do something about endless paperwork_. But, really, Mr. Snyder likes it. Filling in checkboxes, calculating percentages, writing obfuscating reports and unlikely projections.

There are two dinners from Kentucky Fried Chicken that he'll portion out to last the weekend. Original and extra-crispy, for variety. There's a marathon running of _The A Team_ on television.

It'll be a good Thanksgiving for Mr. Snyder.

 

**Big Mistake**

One evering Mr Bogarty, owner of the Magic Shop, was putting his salamander eyes shipment into their "genuine newt eyes" labeled containers. "Who's going to know?" he thought.

Suddenly, a noise behind him made him turn around.

"Who..what do you want?" the shopkeeper asked the man standing there.

In answer, the man's faced turned to a hideous mask. A vampire!

Bogarty snatching a bottle of holy water, launched it directly at the monster's face.

Nothing happened!

Bogarty's final thought was, "I should have taken the trouble of having it blessed by a priest. It was a mistake using tap water."

 

**Memorial**

The woman's eyes were closing, ever so slowly. She jerked up in her seat and rededicated herself to taking notes. Journalism could be dangerous, she thought, what with revolutions and riots, but you could die of boredom at city council meetings, too.

Budget fights and sniping about contractors had entertaining moments; posturing and credit-taking didn't.

The project was done; all they were doing now was bickering about the memorial plaque's wording. Finally, they decided...

**True Heroes  
They Gave Their All To Save The Children**

Mayor Richard Wilkins  
Principal Ulysses Snyder

As Long as there is a Sunnydale, We'll Remember You.

 

**Older and Far Away**

He paced and drank. Had confused thoughts about exile. Exile or escape? Pylea, Caritas, Los Angeles. He got out of them all, sometimes just before they went "Boom!".

Things didn't change in Pylea. Here, this dimension, was a roller coaster ride. You never knew. You had nothing, then a nightclub, then a family, then a jailer. And it all happened so fast.

Now, there were drinks, music, all the glittery satin he could wear, adoring fans. But no way out.

The expected door knock came. "Two minutes to showtime."

He finished the one-too-many drink. "Oh yeah, showtime. Viva Las Vegas!"

 

**Partytime**

He liked the driving. Pushing a Special Liquors (a subsidiary of Wolfram &amp; Hart) truck around the highway wasn't bad. Not the driving, anyway. But unloading would kill his back.

He pulled up behind the bar and went in.

"Hey, Willie, order's here. Bile, blood, assorted excretions. Twice as much as usual. You hirin' this place out for ritual parties?"

"Nah, I had a great idea. Demons, they don't go nowhere on Halloween. So I'm havin' 'Willie's First Annual Stay-in Party'. It's brilliant. You know, 'get out of your sewer or mausoleum; stay safe and sane'. It'll be a goldmine."

 

**Harmony**

She didn't know where that girl was. This is worse than her being out all night at the prom. That's to be expected. A girl's only young once.

Harmony's mom sipped her drink. She promised Harmony she wouldn't have anything before the graduation. They agreed it made her...she said too enthusiastic, Harmony said embarrassing. Good thing, too. That terrible fight that broke out. She felt bad about not thinking about Harm until much later.

Relieved when Harmony finally turned up on the doorstep, she said, "Well, don't just stand there, sweetie. Come in and see what you got for graduation."

 

**Snyder**

He carries all the slights he'd endured throughout his life deep inside him. They're his foundation.

He's never understood how people didn't realize that he was smarter than they were. He's kept all his test papers—every one he's ever taken, all "A's"—to prove just that. The essays that came back marked, "Lacked imagination", he's thrown away.

Nowadays he'll sometimes climb to the tower in the school and look down. Those below don't really look like ants. It isn't high enough. Still, they're small, insignificant, from this vantage point. They're still insect-like. Still crushable.

It's good to be king.

 

**Soul Goes With**

You can switch bodies. Have light eyes instead of brown. Look like a sun-kissed California beach bunny. But inside you're the same.

You still want to reach out and smash the pretty things that the others have.

You still have the voices in your head. The ones that call you a freak.

Putting on a different body will only change it for a little while. Soon they'll see you in her. Soon they'll turn away from her. Because she's you.

You know you bring it with you wherever you go. Your "youness". That's what's wrong.

You are what you are.

 

**Taking Leave**

There was a party the night before she left. The house was packed with everyone she'd ever known. They all said, "Little Janna, all grown up." She lost count of the cheek pinchings.

Her father made a speech about remembering the old ways, and yelled at his drunk brother who muttered about a woman's place. Her grandmother slipped her extra cash, whispering that she should have fun while she was young.

They drank and sang the old songs for hours, then made up some about the beautiful, intrepid Janna.

She'd already decided she wanted to be called "Jenny" in college.

 

**The Home Office Memo**

I've mentioned this in reports before. I will state it again. More emphasis is needed during Watcher training on the central fact of the Watcher's assignment: The Slayer is slated to die.

Time and again the released Watcher has returned in a stunned state. Hollow-eyed, weepy, some are almost incoherent. Others never return to be debriefed at all. They drift off. We just get a jumbled packet of papers and notebooks weeks afterward. It's left to my department to sort things.

One doesn't wish to be brutal but more preparation for the Slayer's demise would be in everyone's best interests.

 

**The Ballerina**

The man leaps and she twirls. She bends gracefully and flutters about, dressed as peasant or as spectral nymph. They do this again and again. They may do this night after night but the concept of day and night has no more meaning to her.

The boy is this story has transgressed and. each time at just the right moment, she rushes out from the wings to succor him, to redeem him. His sin is forgiven.

But what of hers? Lust, Cowardice, Pride. She would repent of it if she knew which of her sins landed her in this hell.

 

**Clem**

They whispered about him, he knew, _Vamp lover_. They'd ask him, _how's your half-breed friend?_ and smirk. He didn't care much. You share a few baskets of kittens with a guy, discover you both like old movies, have a few laughs; it makes a bond. Spike and him were both a little different than their kind.

If he didn't know Spike, Clem wouldn't have gone to those weird human ceremonies. A wedding! A birthday party!

He'd have to say being a demon was the best thing, but it was a great big world out there. Might as well enjoy it.

 

**Holtz**

When Holtz first came to this time, he had occasion to enter a darkened room. Instead of striking a flint, his companion said, "Let me get the switch". Holtz covered his eyes, gasping at the sudden flooding light. It came from glass globes that caught lightning and burned like fire at the touch.

Later when he saw the city ablaze with dancing, colored lights, it looked liked a fairy world. But it came to remind him of a harlot's painted face. The evil he had pursued centuries ago still existed within this city like the pox in a bejeweled whore.

 

**Reception**

Well, that turned into another Harris fiasco. What should have been a glorious day where she reigned as mother of the groom ended in drunken brawling and no wedding at all.

Time to salvage what she could out it. No sense letting all the food in the reception room go to waste, or letting that caterer take it back. She'd just march in there and start loading up the car. Before those grotesques that Anya invited got wind of it.

Xander's mother wondered where he got to. You'd think he'd come to see if she were all right. Typical Harris.


End file.
